


The Crumpled Photo

by Odinwhore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, I'm terrible at writing whoops, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), There's not a happy ending, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug, thor is sad, tony just wants to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 21:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15348894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odinwhore/pseuds/Odinwhore
Summary: Tony is freshly back from Titan, and after a few days of lounging around mourning and not knowing what to do, along with the others, he finds a mysterious crumpled photograph.How was he supposed to know that it was Thor's way of grieving his deceased family?"Thought he had first thought it was some kind of strange hit list, the more he looked at it the more he thought that the x's to mask their faces was so someone didn’t have to look at them."





	The Crumpled Photo

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess this is kind of a stretch because like??? Nobody knows if Asgardians even had photos but I guess in this case they do. And also Tony is back from Titan which is probably also a stretch so?? sorry?? 
> 
> Plus sorry I suck???

When Tony found it, he at first had no idea what it was. He found it on the floor, tucked behind a chair as if it had fallen out of a pocket when someone was standing up. A completely unmemorable crumpled piece of paper that he figured was most likely trash that someone had left behind. For a moment, he thought he would just leave it there - let someone else take care of it, he was not really in the mood to be cleaning up after grown adults. It was glittering evening, a mixed hue of deep navy and purple outside and he knew the bags under his eyes would probably be about the same color. He was exhausted, mentally unstable and he probably shouldn’t even be out of bed, but after another moment of staring at the paper, he decided to pick it up and check what it was. 

Now that he was holding the paper, Tony couldn’t resist the urge to open it up and look inside of it. He expected maybe a sketch from Steve, which he probably would have drawn while absentmindedly staring into space, lost in his own mind, his past. Or maybe it could even be one of the many pieces of paper Bruce had been writing out a plan on, only to scribble it out, retrace his steps, start over, and eventually rip to shreds. What he didn’t expect, was a picture. 

The picture was of was looked like five people, but four of them had careful x’s, written in some kind of ink, on their faces. The last was scratched out, with what looked like some kind of knife tip.

The more Tony stared at it, the more curious he became. Thought he had first thought it was some kind of strange hit list, the more he looked at it the more he thought that the x's to mask their faces was so someone didn’t have to look at them. The picture was high quality, but it didn’t look new, and wherever the picture was, it didn’t look like any place Tony had ever seen. The background was beautiful, vibrant. A large tree and a rich meadow filled with wildflowers unlike any he had ever seen. It was beautiful, but completely alien to him. He started to wonder just who these people were, where they were, who had crossed them out. 

Carefully, and a little worried he would scratch up the picture, he used his fingernail to scratch off the ink on their faces. 

Eventually, they were all clean of the ink, and he could see them clearly. Two of them were grown men, one was a young boy, and the last was a woman. 

The first person that found his eyes was one of the men. Tony could tell he was an older man, as his hair was starting to fade to a bright white. He looked stern, demanding. Like he would sooner slap his children before he would love and cherish them. He was in an outfit that was unlike Tony had ever seen, some kind of armour or something, that was covered in sharp designs, switching layers of steel and gold. He was also holding a golden staff that looked like some kind of lethal weapon, something intimidating that matched the way he looked. Paired with the eyepatch over one of his eyes, he seemed almost terrifying. 

Tony bit his lip and looked next to the man, to the only woman. She, unlike the first wan, was smiling. She was beautiful, with long hair the color of honey pulled into a complicated crown on the top of her head, while some of it flowed down her back. She was wearing a beautiful silken dress, a light blue color with designs of gold. She was glowing she was so beautiful, and she looked like she was the type of person who would rescue puppies. But still, she had an odd cunning in her eye, something that said, I know more than you could ever know. 

Standing behind the man and the woman was the other man. He was obviously some kind of guard, as he was standing in a strong, manly position, with a large sword buried in the ground directly in front of him. His skin was the color of rich coffee, which contrasted perfectly with his bulky, golden armor. But the most interesting thing about him was his amber eyes, which looked far away, looking at something else. It was obvious he was there guarding the others, but Tony had no idea why. 

After focusing on the others until his brain cramped, Tony finally found his eyes looking at the young boy, who was smiling bigger than anyone in the photo. His hair was dark and short, and his eyes were a brilliant, beautiful green, wide and innocent. He was a pretty cute kid, and looking at his big smile made Tony have to look away, suddenly shook to the bone with grief. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut before he looked back at the picture. 

“Who the hell are you guys?” He whispered, running his fingers over the photograph. He flipped over the photo and looked at the back, almost by reflex, but he found that on the back, names were written in neat print. There were so many that at first, Tony didn’t want to look at them all, but eventually he did. He didn’t recognize any of them, but some of them were odd enough that he remembered them. Korg, Sif, Brunnhilde, Miek, Fandral. 

Tony frowned and looked back at the photo. 

For some reason, his eyes once again found themselves staring at the little boy. He looked him over once more, at his little green cape and black vest, and breathed out a sighed, frustrated. He rubbed his eyes, and looked back at the photo. 

And suddenly, it seemed like everything had changed. No one had moved, the image hadn’t actually changed, but Tony suddenly realized that he knew the little boy. That mischievous tint in his eyes, that dark hair, those eyes. It had to be Loki. Loki, the god of mischief and Thor’s brother. 

And that solved the mystery of who the photo belonged to (who else would have a photo of Loki as a child but his brother?), and why Tony had no idea where the photo had been taken, because it wasn’t on this planet. 

Thor. Of course it was Thor. 

Tony neatly folded the photo and put it in his pocket, ready to give it back to its rightful owner. He hadn’t actually seen or spoken to Thor since he had gotten back from…. Well, space. He knew that the mood of everyone had been extremely different, but he had honestly been surprised when Thor hadn’t come to find him just after he returned, to check his health, mentally and physically, and catch up with him. Thor was like a big puppy that was trained to kill evil. All he ever wanted to do was to make everyone happy and keep everyone safe. So the fact that Tony hadn’t seen him was definitely strange. 

But then again, Tony had talked to Natasha, and she said that Thor was different than when they had last seen him, so he was prepared for the worst. 

Tony made his way to the room that Bruce had told him Thor was staying in (they seemed strangely close now), and knocked. 

After a moment of silence, Thor’s gruff voice responded, “Come in!” 

Tony pulled open the door and peeked in. The room was dark, not lit by any kind of lamp or light, and he could see Thor’s large figure by the window, sitting in a chair. 

“Jesus, Thor. What the hell are you doing in here? Cocaine?” Tony muttered. He reached his hand out and flicked on the light, illuminating the room. He squinted his eyes for a second before he could open them again. 

The room was neat and tidy, almost like Thor hadn’t even touched it, hadn’t even been inside. The bed was made, never slept in. There was a tray of food, never eaten and obviously cold sitting on a small table beneath a different window. In fact, the only thing that showed Thor was staying in the room, was his axe, still crusted with blood, which was resting against the wall on the far side of the room. It was very fancy, much fancier than Thor’s hammer, which Tony couldn’t see in the room. Slowly he looked back to who he came for. 

Thor was still sitting in his chair, his chin resting on the palm of his hand as he watched Tony. He looked drained, almost sad. His lips were pulled into a slight frown, and the bags under his eyes were dark and deep. 

Not only did he seem different in personality, not his usual bright self, but he looked different too. His long, silky golden locks, something Tony had teased him about relentlessly in the past, were gone, chopped off into uneven layers cropped close to his head. And who could forget the missing eye. Steve had said one of his eyes was fake, but it seemed Thor had taken it out and had put his eyepatch back on while he was brooding in the dark. 

“What do you want, Stark?” Thor rumbled, sounding as tired as he looked. 

Tony cleared his throat, “Right,” he pulled the photo out of his pocket and held it out. “I found this… I think it belongs to you.” 

Thor silently rose from his chair, and walked over to Tony, his eye focused on the photo. When he was standing close enough to Tony, he reached out and carefully took it. 

Tony watched as Thor opened it as though it was made of sand, and might crumble into nothing in his hands. His face twisted in anguish when he saw the photo, and Tony was shocked to see tears in his one blue eye. 

“What-” Tony cleared his throat, “Uh, What is that? Why are all those people…” he trailed off as he watched Thor. 

Thor sighed and crumpled the photo in one hand, turning his face away as a tear streamed down his cheek. He wiped it away with the opposite hand as he looked into Tony’s eyes. All signs of his sadness were gone, his jaw was set, his eyes hard. 

“It’s the closest thing to a funeral most of them will ever receive.” He murmured. 

Tony stared at him. “Wait a second. You’re saying every single person on that-that picture are all dead?” 

Thor nodded his head and turned away, walking back to his chair and sitting back in it. He sighed and looked out the window once more. “Leave me.” He murmured, just loud enough to hear. 

Tony stared at him, baffled. “Are you out of your mind? What the hell are you-” 

Before he could finish Thor stood up sharply from his chair, obviously angry. His eye was dangerous, electric. A kind of danger Tony had never seen before in his friend. “I said go!” He bellowed. 

Tony set his jaw and huffed out a laugh. “Fine. Fuck you too then.” He stormed over to the door and yanked it open. And he was gone with just a slam of the door. 

Thor sighed and rose from his chair, now sure Tony was gone. It’s not as if he didn’t want to talk and grieve with his friend, but this particular way of grieving was special to him. He had no idea why he had kept the photo when it always caused him so much pain to look at it. In fact, seeing the smiling faces of his family was eventually so painful that he crossed out their faces so he wouldn’t want to anymore. But still, he had kept it with him. Tucked into his pocket or hidden in his armor. He had even written the names of his lost people and friends on it after they were gone too, so he could grieve them all at the same time. 

Slowly, He walked to the door and placed one hand against it as he looked back down at the photo of his deceased family. Again he felt the twisting pain in his heart, the pain that made his eyes fill with tears and his shoulders slump. 

With his eyes still trained on the photo, he set his forehead against the wall as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”


End file.
